Читать книгу To Catch A Thief - Nan Dixon - Страница 13
Оглавление“MAMÁ, MRS. HALVORSEN is bringing over sweet tea and cookies.” Their neighbor promised to visit with her mother while Carolina drove to Savannah.
“Is this the interview with the witch?” her mother asked.
Carolina inhaled. Her mother was losing her filters. “It’s with Abby Fitzgerald.”
“She’s probably as uppity as her mother.” Mamá’s lips pursed as tight as if she’d eaten a lemon.
“Then why did you hound me to apply for the job?” Frustration filled Carolina’s voice.
“Because I want you to find out what those Fitzgeralds are up to.” Her mother’s blue eyes narrowed. “I want you to see where we should have been living if your father hadn’t died so young.”
“I didn’t have to apply for a job to do that.”
Her mother wrapped an arm around Carolina’s waist. “But if you get into the house, you could...pick up something for me.”
“What?”
“A...souvenir.” Her mother’s voice rose. “Something small.”
“I can’t.” A shiver ran down Carolina’s spine. Her mother’s cancer was making her irrational.
“For your mother?” Tears dripped from Mamá’s eyes.
“I’m not a thief.” Had her mother stopped distinguishing right from wrong? “Why would you ask me to do this?”
“Beau promised we’d live there.” Mamá paced to the window and back. “How could it be stealing if we should have lived in the house?”
“Because we don’t.” Carolina’s voice was small.
“Something little. Something they won’t miss.” Mamá’s words spit out so fast, they ran together. “That’s all I’m asking.”
“I... I...this is an interview.”
Mamá’s eyes were bright with tears. “I’m dying.”
Pain swept through Carolina’s body like a crashing wave. A knock on the door kept her from agreeing. How could Mamá ask this of her?
On the drive into Savannah she rehearsed how she would tell her mother she’d never had a chance to do what she’d asked. I was never alone. I was in the restaurant not the house.
Maybe it wouldn’t matter. Maybe her mother would forget their conversation.
But for the last three days, all Mamá had talked about was Fitzgerald House. Carolina had finally applied for the job to stop her haranguing.
She drove by the four-story mansion. Fitzgerald House. Resentment that her half sisters lived in such grandeur and wealth had her gritting her teeth. Why hadn’t her father taken care of her and her mother? Why hadn’t he acknowledged Carolina as his child?
After parking in the back, she exhaled. She didn’t want this job. And she didn’t want to meet her half sisters.
But bartending was the best-paying job she’d found and they needed the money. It would allow her to work the fewest hours and spend more time with Mamá.
Hopefully, she wouldn’t get the job. Great attitude for an interview.
Carolina found a path that lead around the house and headed up wide, wooden steps. The double door was bright blue. She stepped into a soaring foyer and her heels clicked on the green-and-gold marble. In the middle of the space on an ornate round table sat a huge vase filled with flowers. Could that be Waterford? If she sold the vase, it might make her car payment for two months.
“Can I help you?” A woman with strawberry blond hair stood next to a small desk. “Are you checking in?”
“Oh, no.” Carolina chewed her lip. “I have an interview for the Southern Comforts’ bartending position. I was told to come here.”
“Carolina Castillo?”
She nodded.
The woman held out her hand. “Hi. I’m Abby Fitzgerald.”
Carolina stared. Her half sister. With Abby’s pale skin and her reddish-blond hair, they didn’t look alike. Were there any similarities between them?
She was a few seconds too slow shaking Abby’s hand. “Hi.”
“Let me find someone to cover the desk.” Abby moved down a hallway.
Carolina took in a breath. This was a mistake. But she needed a job that paid more than minimum wage. Her mother’s credit card companies were demanding payment.
“All handled.” Abby carried a tray with a sweating pitcher and glasses filled with ice. She led the way to a small parlor. “I brought some sweet tea.”
Carolina sat. Abby poured a glass and Carolina took a polite sip. “O-oh. This is good.”
“It’s my version of sweet tea with tweaks.” Abby winked. “And I don’t give away secrets.”
Carolina froze. Did Abby know her secret?
No way. If Abby knew they were related, Carolina wouldn’t be sitting there. “I understand the position is for a newly opened restaurant.”
“We thought we could get away with only one bartender each night, but we need two.”
“Congratulations,” Carolina said. Would Abby catch the sarcasm in her voice? Of course, Abby’s restaurant would be a success. Everything the Fitzgeralds touched turned to gold.
“Why did you leave Nashville?” Abby asked.
Carolina kept it simple. “My mother is sick. I needed to come home.”
“I’m sorry.” Abby touched Carolina’s hand. “I understand. My family means everything to me.”
“Thank you.” Family? Abby had no clue.
How could her half sister understand? She had everything. Sisters. Mother. She’d had their father.
Carolina had gotten stolen moments with Daddy. Now her mother was dying and she would end up alone.
“Tell me about your work history?” Abby asked.
“In Nashville, I worked at the Silo and Garett’s Bar and Grill.”
“So why haven’t you done any bartending for a year?” Abby asked.
“I was able to get a full-time singing job, so I quit bartending.”
“Oh.” Abby asked questions about her experiences and Carolina relaxed and answered.
A bell rang.
“I called your references,” Abby said. “They were very complimentary about your work ethic.”
“I think it’s important to do what you say you will do.” Unlike the father they shared.
“I like—” The bell rang again. Abby frowned. “I’ll be right back.”
She slipped through the pocket door, pulling it shut.
Carolina stretched and walked to the window, staring across the street. In the square people either strolled or sat on the benches. Veils of Spanish moss hung from the oaks, shading the crowds. Her mother would love the view.
She leaned against the windowsill and knocked over a small porcelain bird. A cardinal. There were four of them scattered on the sill. Four.
She swallowed. It was so little. She picked it up. It couldn’t be worth much. Her fingers squeezed the bird.
No. What her mother had asked her to do was wrong.
Footsteps echoed outside the door. She hurried back to her chair. Blast. She still had the cardinal. She jammed it in her purse as the door slid open. She would put it back before she left. She snatched up her tea and sipped. Maybe the cool drink would chill the fire blazing across her face.
When the door opened, Abby waved her over. “Would you like to see the restaurant?”
“Yes.” Because she wanted to leave. Wanted to stuff the bird under the sofa cushion.
But Abby never took her eye off Carolina as she joined her in the entry.
Carolina couldn’t breathe. She’d have to...drop the bird somewhere.
Abby walked next to her, spouting the B and B history. Carolina chewed on her lip. If Abby quizzed her, she wouldn’t be able to repeat anything she’d been told.
They walked through a kitchen.
“Is this the restaurant?” It was large, but there was a big table tucked in an alcove and a sitting area around a fireplace.
“This is the B and B kitchen, for Fitzgerald and Carleton House.” Abby held open an outside door. “We remodeled the carriage house for Southern Comforts.”
The heat and humidity weren’t the only reasons Carolina started to sweat through her shirt. The bird in her purse weighed on her shoulder like an anvil.
Abby dealt with the restaurant door locks and Carolina walked into a gorgeous room. A wall of windows looked over the gardens they’d just walked through. Outside were tables. “Do these windows open to the patio?”
“Aren’t they fabulous?” Abby tapped her chin. “I might eventually add a bar out there.”
Right now the green umbrellas were closed, but Carolina could imagine them open and the iron tables filled with happy diners while soft music played.
“This is our main bar.” Abby led her to the side of the dining room.
Again, Carolina was overwhelmed. Her heeled sandals clicked across sand-colored tiles. The tables all had flowers and the tablecloths weren’t just white, but brought in the colors of the gardens: greens, pale pinks, reds, even lavender. It should have looked—garish. But the colors made her smile.
The top of the bar was old wood covered with a thick layer of polyurethane. Brass hardware under the bar top sparkled.
“Those were the carriage house doors,” Abby said. “Nathan used them for the countertop.”
“It’s beautiful.” She ducked under the pass-through. It was the normal bar setup—taps, fridges, glassware hanging above and high-end liquor gleaming against a mirrored back wall. Two or three people could easily work back here. “This is a good setup.”
“Because we’ve been so busy, the servers are waiting too long for their drink orders.”
“That’s not good.” Shouldn’t there be people lingering over a glass of wine or having an early cocktail right now? “You don’t serve lunch?”
“We do, but we’re closed on Mondays.”
Carolina nodded. She wasn’t sure what day it was. Since she’d returned to Tybee, the days all blended together.
“I have one more interview this evening,” Abby said, “but I want to make this decision fast. How soon could you start?”
Carolina moved to the other side of the bar. “As soon as you need me.”
Abby touched her shoulder. “Wonderful.”
After discussing the pay, they left the restaurant.
Carolina’s phone rang. “I’m so sorry.” Her face flamed. “I thought I shut it off.”
“Take the call, we’re done. It was nice to meet you.” Abby shook her hand and headed back to Fitzgerald House.
Carolina pulled out her phone. The cursed bird rattled against the case. “Mamá? Are you all right?”
“I wanted to hear about your interview.”
“It was good. And the pay is better than any job I’ve found.” Carolina sat at the nearest table. “Is Mrs. Halvorsen still there?”
“She’s boring. I sent her home.” Her mother’s voice turned low and sly. “Did you get something for me?”
“Mamá!” How was she going to put the small bird back?
“They have everything!”
“But...”
Her mother sniffled. “I thought you loved me.”
“You know I love you.” Carolina’s words rushed out. “You’re all I have.”
“Then why are you only thinking of yourself? I thought I’d brought you up better. I guess not.” The phone clicked off.
Carolina’s phone clattered to the table. How could her mother ask this of her? As much as she hated the idea of working for her half sister, this was the best job around and her mother wanted to jeopardize it for a...a souvenir.
She laid her head on her arms. Could she leave the bird on a courtyard table? No. Leaving it there might implicate her. And Abby might be vindictive.
Somehow she had to get it back into Fitzgerald House.
* * *
SAGE COULDN’T PUT it off another day. Kaden had hounded him to come for dinner.
He glanced at his list of accomplishments posted on the fridge.
Walk around condo:
5 mins.
10 mins.
20 mins.
Go outside
Walk down River Street
Get up to Bay Street
Okay, he’d taken the elevator up to Bay, but he’d stumbled around after that.
All this training was preparation for his little stroll to Kaden’s.
After donning his sunglasses, he walked to the elevator by city hall and took it up to the Bay Street level. Next week he’d hopefully add “Climb Steps to Bay” to his Done list.
By the time he got to Broughton, he was sweating. After just two weeks, he was out of shape. He wanted to return to work. He wanted his life back.
He flagged a cab and headed to the address Kaden had given him. Where was this carriage house? Taking a chance, he headed around the B and B and entered a courtyard through the back gate. Now what?
Instead of wasting precious energy wandering, he dialed Kaden. “I’m in a courtyard. Where do I go now?”
Kaden laughed. “Hang on. I’ll be down in...ten minutes. I’ll find you.”
Easy for him to laugh. Laughing hurt Sage’s head and ribs. He looked for a place to rest.
A woman with gorgeous black hair had her head down on her arms. Beyond her was a small bench. He passed behind her, not wanting to disturb her nap.
Shoving her chair back, she slammed it into him. He went down like a roped calf.
“Oh, my God!” the woman cried.
His head rang. Pain stabbed behind his eyes.
“Are you okay?” She snatched his hand, trying to pull him to his feet.
“Wait.” He would fall over or faint if he moved too soon. “Wait.”
She crouched next to him. “I didn’t mean to knock you down.”
“S’okay.” He took deep breaths. “I just need...”
“What? How can I help?”
He tried to get his feet under him but stumbled.
“Let me.” She supported his elbow.
He clawed his way to his feet and finally looked at the woman who’d knocked him down like he was a bowling pin.
She was beautiful. Her dark blue eyes looked almost black and her skin was a luscious golden-olive color. And her hair? Black, curly and long enough to play peekaboo with her breasts. He swiped at his chin to make sure he wasn’t drooling.
“I’m so sorry.” She led him to the chair she’d abandoned. “I wasn’t paying any attention.”
“I thought you were sleeping.” A shard of pain slammed into him. He grasped his head and couldn’t contain the groan.
“You hurt your head.” Her fingers explored his skull.
The bump she was going to find was old, but her touch was cool and soothing.
“Is this the spot?” she asked.
“Yeah, but you didn’t cause it.” He swallowed back the nausea that always accompanied his headaches. “I was hurt a—” he couldn’t remember how long ago he’d been hurt “—while ago. I get headaches.”
“So does my mother.” She kneaded his shoulders, working her fingers up the tendons of his neck. “Does this help?”
“Yes.” He groaned. “That’s...good.”
“I do this for Mamá a couple times a day.” She worked her fingers into his temples.
He didn’t talk, just enjoyed the release of pain.
“Oh, damnation! I need to get back to Mamá.”
He caught her wrist and tugged her so she stood next to him. He squinted up into her face. Her glorious skin was tinged pink. “What’s your name?”
“This is embarrassing. We’re strangers. I shouldn’t have touched you.” She wrung her magical hands. “I’m so sorry. It’s...my mother.”
“No. This is the best I’ve felt since my accident.” He couldn’t tell a stranger he’d been shot. “Thank you.”
“But I knocked you down.” She chewed her bottom lip.
“You didn’t hurt me. Unless you count my being embarrassed because I fell at the feet of the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.”
She rolled her eyes. “Right.”
He wasn’t kidding. “Who are you?”
“Carolina.”
“I’m Sage. Sage Cornell.” He took her hand. “Thank you.”
She settled into the chair next to him, leaving her hand in his.
“Are you a guest?” he asked. Please don’t be here on your honeymoon.
“Don’t I wish. I just applied for a job.”
“You live around here?”
“Tybee.” Darkness shadowed her eyes. She pulled her hand away and linked her fingers in her lap. “Are you a guest?”
“Visiting someone I work with. He lives here.”
Her eyebrows crunched together. “A Fitzgerald?”
“No.” He grimaced and the sting of pain reminded him to relax his face. “I don’t know why he’s living here. His fiancée’s last name is Smythe.”
“Oh.” She frowned. “I think Abby’s married to a Smythe.”
“I don’t suppose I could have your phone number.” Way to be confident. “That is, I’d like your phone number.”
“I... I’m sorry.” She sighed. “Between taking care of my mother and searching for a job, I don’t have much time.
“You don’t have time to talk?” He wouldn’t give up.
Her eyes swam with unshed tears. “I might not be a great conversationalist.”
“What can it hurt?” He pulled out his phone, raising his eyebrows. Cornells pushed through to meet their goals. “Like I said, I’m Sage Cornell.”
She sighed. “Carolina. Castillo.”
He wanted to do a fist pump, but that wouldn’t impress her. He handed her his phone, not sure his eyes would let him enter her digits correctly. Damn this injury.
“There.” She handed his phone back to him.
“Let’s try it.” He wasn’t stupid. She could have put in a fake number.
A phone rang in her purse. She pulled it out, shut off the ringer and created a contact. “I really have to get back to my mother.”
“Thank you for helping with my headache.” He grinned. “If I call tonight, would that be too soon?”
“I’d...like that.” She laughed as she walked away.
He waited until she’d stepped into the parking lot, then pumped both fists. “Yes!”
“What was that for?” Kaden’s voice came from behind him.
“I just met the most gorgeous woman.” Sage steadied himself before he pushed up from the table. “And got her number.”
Kaden shook his head. “A guest?”
“Nope. She applied for a job.” And if she got the job, he planned to spend a lot more time with Kaden. Excellent. He’d keep his partner happy—and maybe himself, too.
* * *
I’M A THIEF! What had she been thinking?
Carolina parked in their driveway and wanted to pound her head on the steering wheel.
Not only was she a thief, she’d touched a stranger. Just started rubbing his head. Sage must think she was the stupidest, most forward, craziest woman in the world.
It’s just—he’d been hurting. His headache had been so much like her mother’s, she hadn’t been able to stand by and let it eat at him. Even though he’d said it wasn’t her fault, it had been. If she’d paid attention, she wouldn’t have made him fall.
Worst of all, because she’d been so flustered, she’d walked away with the bird. She’d planned to stop in the B and B and return the darn cardinal.
But Sage had started flirting and she’d forgotten. A small zing had her straightening her shoulders. Would he call? Did she want him to? Time was her enemy—she didn’t have any to spare.
Shoving her hair off her face, she caught a whiff of something delicious. She sniffed her hand. Chocolate and citrus. Sage’s scent. Was this his shampoo? She’d had her fingers buried in his thick, gold-streaked brown hair. And his eyes matched his name—a sage-green filled with so much pain she’d needed to ease his distress.
She stared at her mother’s house. It was time to do the same for Mamá.
The door was unlocked so she pushed inside and set her purse on the coffee table. “You forgot to lock the door, Mamá.”
Her mother came out of the dark kitchen and stumbled, grabbing the archway. “What did you bring me?”
Carolina shouldn’t.
“You brought me something, right?” Her mother touched her hand to her temple and closed her eyes. “Nothing?”
Carolina didn’t answer her mother’s question. “Do you have a headache?”
“Don’t worry about me.” Her mother clutched at the doorway, as if she couldn’t stand. “My happiness doesn’t matter. My pain doesn’t matter.”
“Mamá. It does.” Carolina helped her to the sofa. “Would you like to sit outside and watch the sunset?”
“No.” A tear slipped down her mother’s cheek as she curled her legs under her.
She massaged her mother’s shoulders but Mamá pushed her hands away.
“I just wanted a token,” her mother whispered.
Would it hurt to give her the cardinal? Carolina twisted her hands. How many more days did she have with her mother? The headaches were getting worse.
She knelt in front of her mother and dug into her purse. “It was in the front parlor.”
Her mother’s eyes went wide. She turned the bird over. “How much is it worth?”
“Worth?”
“Yes!” Animation filled her mother’s face. “A lot?”
“I don’t think so.” Was that what this was about? Money?
“Maybe I should have it appraised.” Her mother turned the small bird over and over, then hugged it to her chest.
“They wouldn’t leave valuable things just sitting on a windowsill.”
“Of course they would.” Mamá’s eyes narrowed. “They’re greedy and selfish.”
“There were three other birds.”
“Why didn’t you take them all?” Rosa’s voice was as discordant as an out-of-tune piano.
“I couldn’t. I...wasn’t alone that long.”
“Next time.” Mamá admired the bird.
There wouldn’t be a next time. Carolina would ramp up her job search on the island. She wouldn’t steal for her mother again.
